


This I Swear By The Stars

by NahaFlowers



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Feelings of Inadequacy, First Kiss, Guilt, I've used the word 'Suddenly' so many times in this that Hugh Jackman could practically sing it, Javert is depressed but still sassy, Javert is in love, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Seine, Romance, TW: suicidal thoughts, Valjean is too, fix-it AU, maybe slightly OOC, tw: depression, very much movie-based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Valjean approaches the Pont-Au-Change to prevent Javert from committing suicide, Javert blurts out his final confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This I Swear By The Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Idril_Earfalas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idril_Earfalas/gifts).



> Written for Idrilearfalas, who prompted this: 'Javert confessing his love to Valjean. Literally saying the words “I love you”.  
> And since Valjean always thought something like this was totally OOC for Javert (and maybe they’re not even a couple yet), he’s left dumbstruck.' on Tumblr. I should be working on my Valvert gift fic, but the idea for this just struck me and I've been promising her a Valvert fic for ages, so here we are. (I hope it's not too far away from what you wanted, dear.)

“I love you.”

“What?”

Javert’s words were barely audible and Valjean was certain he must have misheard them, if not downright imagined them, but they stopped him in his tracks and he stood before Javert on the bridge, staring open-mouthed at his back.

“You heard me,” Javert rumbled tiredly. The words had been the hasty result of a heated exchange between them, one that had begun with Valjean yelling at him, demanding to know what he was doing (on the bridge, in Valjean’s life - Javert had replied with a caustic “What does it look like?”). Still, he did not regret his words. These were his last few moments - he may as well tell the truth.

“Javert, you…you-” Valjean struggled with the words, his expression torn between utmost terror and sheer joy. “…love me?” 

“Yes, and? What of it?” he risked sparing a glance at Valjean, hoping the starless night would hide the tears that sprang to his eyes at the thought that this would be the last time he ever saw the man.

Valjean simply mouthed his name, seemingly incapable of saying or doing anything further. Javert took a deep breath. May as well deliver his final confession, to the one he deserved to hear it. He would not be a coward in this, not when he stood on the precipice of his eternal damnation. He took a deep breath.

“I…do not know how long I have loved you for. But it has been for so long that I cannot remember not loving you.”

“But…you hate me,” Valjean eventually managed to splutter out.

“Oh yes,” Javert chuckled bitterly. “Although most of all I hated myself. Did you know it is possible to hate and love someone at the same time? An extraordinary thing,” he mused, more to himself than Valjean, turning back to face the river, to look up at stars that weren’t really there.

Valjean had bowed his head at Javert’s words, and clasped his hands together as if in prayer. However, on seeing Javert turn back to the churning rapids of the Seine, his heartbeat quickened and hurried forward, closer to Javert.

Javert twisted around. “Not another step! One more step and I die.” 

This time, Valjean did take his advice and stopped in his tracks, panting heavily.

Javert shook his head in wonder. “You would stop to save me, but you would not stop to save yourself.”

“You would not have killed me,” Valjean countered. They both knew this to be true. “You seem to have no such qualms about your own life,” he adds, and his voice is choked, and Javert realises it is with anger. He bristles.

“Don’t you dare be angry with me, Valjean. I’m doing this _for_ you.”

“For _me_?” he says, and he sounds even more angry now, almost dangerously so. Javert nearly laughs at this thought; what danger could Jean Valjean possibly pose him now?”

“To let you go. To free you at last. So you can live the last years of your life free from me, free from fear, in peace.”

Valjean laughs hoarsely. Whatever reaction Javert had expected, it was not that. He turned around more fully to face him.  
“Would you really arrest me now, Javert?” he said sadly, looking Javert up and down as if assessing him.

“No, of course not!” he exclaimed angrily. “And this is why I must do this thing. Because if I live, I will be unable to stay away from you, Jean Valjean, unable to let you live in peace. I have tried to leave you alone, damn it, I have tried. But it will not be.” He bowed his head. 

“Is that such a bad thing?” Valjean ventured softly.

Javert snorted incredulously. “Of course it’s a bad thing.”

“Why?” Why? Why did Valjean have to sound so patient, so understanding? It was more than he could bear.

“Why?! _Why_ , he says! Because you are a saint and I am a devil! Because I have hunted you every day of your life since you left Toulon, and you deserve to be free! Because I stood by and did nothing while all around me, good men - fools, I grant you, but good men all the same - died.”

“Javert,” said Valjean gently, “Javert, you couldn’t have saved them.”

“But I could have _tried_! I would have let a good man go to prison, just to shield myself from my own feelings.” He was powerless to stop the tears that fell down his face now, tears that, he would have seen had he looked up, were shared by Jean Valjean. “You don’t deserve me in your life, Jean Valjean, and that is why I must leave it.” He said this last in a surprisingly calm tone, resigned to his fate as he was, and took a step closer to the edge of the parapet.

“NO!” Valjean reached out a hand towards Javert, edging closer to the parapet that he might haul Javert away from the edge. “I cannot lose you now, not when I know- well-“

“Come on, Valjean, spit it out!”

“Now that I know how you feel, alright?!”

“Please don’t, Valjean. Please don’t try and save me out of charity. I could not bear that.” The pain in Javert’s eyes was so tangible, so real and present, that it struck Valjean right in the gut. Suddenly he was full of fear. He was actually going to do this, wasn’t he?

“Javert! Goddamnit, Javert, I’m not doing this out of some charitable instinct, alright?” Javert snorted in disbelief. “Oh, really? Why did you save me at the barricade, then? That was not out of any form of charitable instinct either, I suppose.”

“No!” Valjean let out a frustrated sigh. “I saved you at the barricade because you are a good man,” Javert snorted again, “and because...I feel the same way about you.”

“What?” Javert had frozen in the process of rolling his eyes. “Don’t say that, Valjean. Don’t mock me in this way. Please, just...leave now. Let me have my last few moments in peace.”

“You love me,” Valjean said, and his voice was steadier saying the words than he could ever have expected, “and you know me better than any other man alive.” Javert bowed his head, though whether in agreement or simply supplication, Valjean didn’t know. “Do you really think I’d lie? About something like this?”

“I think you’d say whatever you have to say to get me down from here, to prevent my death. Go and spend your charity on someone else, Valjean. Even the meanest sewer rat is more deserving than me.”

Valjean groaned in exasperation. Christ, what did he have to do to make the man see? His answer came from him like an epiphany. He took Javert’s hand, and stepped onto the bridge.

“If you jump, I jump too. If we die, we die together.”

Javert let go of his hand but promptly grasped his shoulder, groping for it like a blind man, turning Valjean to face him. “Valjean, Valjean, _no_.” He said it with such vehemence, the fear of God in his head. Who was this man, who would willingly jump into the abyss himself, but who balked at the very thought of Valjean going to hell? He did not think he knew him very well at all.

“Why not? Without you, my life is not worth living,” he said fiercely.

“What about your daughter?”

“She has Marius now. She has no need of her father anymore.”

“And if the boy were to die? Would you force her to grieve over both your dead bodies?” Javert was angry now, angry that Valjean would so easily give up his life when he has so much to live for; when Javert was dying so he can live. And it made Valjean angry too; after all, what right did Javert have to be angry at him for doing the same idiotic thing as the Inspector insisted on perpetrating upon himself?

“He will live,” Valjean stated, though he did not sound so sure. Javert raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, that is not the point! The point is...the point is...” he trailed off, until a sudden realisation hit him.

“You love me.”

Javert rolled his eyes, although he could not avoid the lump in his throat as he said “I thought I had made that perfectly obvious.”

And suddenly, Jean Valjean knew what he had to do. It was perfectly obvious. He grabbed the Inspector by the lapels and pressed his lips to Javert’s.

Shocked didn’t even cover what Javert felt. His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened and his body tensed, hoping to God against all hope that this wasn’t Valjean’s damned charitable instincts at work again. Then a tongue pressed against his lips, seeking entrance, and Javert thought no more. He would be happy, he felt, as he allowed Valjean’s tongue to twist with his, if he never thought again.

All too soon Valjean pulled away, eyes shining with intense emotion. Never had Javert seen such a passionate look in his eyes, not when he’d been released on parole, nor when he’d ordered Javert to let Fantine go, nor when he pleaded with him to give him three days, nor even when he’d begged Javert to allow him to drag the boy out of the sewers. It was this, more than anything else that night,that persuaded him that this was real. He gazed at Valjean open-mouthed.

“Now do you believe me?” The ex-convict smiled slightly, despite the remnants of exasperation in his voice.

Javert could only nod. Dazed, he let Valjean gently tug him down from the parapet. “You- you love me,” he stammered, reaching up to touch Valjean’s face exceptionally slowly, as though he were afraid it would disintegrate at his slightest touch.

Valjean breathed a shaky sigh of relief. “I’m glad I made that obvious,” he said drily, laughing breathlessly.

Javert leaned up to kiss him again, slow and lingering, and Valjean stopped laughing, having to focus all his attention on simply breathing.

When Javert pulled away he was smiling. Valjean smiled back, squeezing his hand. 

Then a shadow fell over Javert’s face again. “But-“

Valjean clapped a hand over his mouth. “No more buts.” Javert looked up at him in protest, a muffled and irritated sound warming Valjean’s hand. Valjean sighed. “It’s not going to be easy. For either of us. But I promise we’ll work through it. I swear it, Javert.” This said, he took his hand away from Javert’s mouth.

Javert nodded in agreement. “This I swear by the stars,” he said quietly to himself. Valjean smiled and offered Javert his hand, and as he took it and they walked away towards life, Valjean glanced back to see that the clouds had disappeared and the stars were shining over Paris once more.


End file.
